


Beyond These Walls

by adr1anishere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Multi, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, extremely amateur writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adr1anishere/pseuds/adr1anishere
Summary: Ten years ago, the royal family of Terra suddenly vanished. Ten years later, the kingdom of Terra is almost entirely under Galra control.Pidge Gunderson is a farm girl living in the last province of Northern Terra, and hope is slowly being stripped away from her. One day, however, an outsider finds his way into the highlands. His name is Lance McClain, and with him he brings a spark of hope that will set all of Cosmas aflame.





	1. The Winds of Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [violetspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetspace/gifts).



Amber eyes stared out the small window of the bedroom. Judging by where the half moon was in the sky, she assumed then would be the safest time to go. Tossing aside her blanket, she slipped out of her bed. Her body moved automatically, having this routine long memorized: crouch down, reach under the bed, feel around for the familiar leather strap, stand up, and tiptoe to the door. She couldn’t help but wish she lived in a different time; one where what she was about to do wouldn’t get her and her family killed.

Pidge felt her way down the hall, relying on the sparse moonlight beaming through the cracks of the makeshift curtains for sight. Her hand wrapped around doorknob and she slipped through the small opening she made, praying the hinges wouldn’t give her away. Hearing the door softly click behind her, she pulled her hood over her head, slipping away from the village like a shadow.

Eiller looked so different at night, Pidge mused, looking back at the poorly lit settlement. A wistful smile flashed on her face as she began her nightly commute. Maybe in that other time she dreamed of, her hometown wouldn’t look so frail, like a flickering candle about to be blown out at any minute. _Stop daydreaming_ , she chided herself. _You need to focus or that candle will actually be blown out._ Her footsteps slowed next to the fallen log in the road – it had probably been lying there for about ten years now – as she stepped over it, not even stopping as she swiftly grabbed the torch tucked away on the other side.

She continued on the path for a while, keeping an eye out for anyone or _anything_ that might try to attack her. Pidge knew she wasn’t exactly armed properly for night travel outside a settlement, but a weapon risked more noise, so she didn’t have a very appealing choice on that matter. If worse came to worse, she guessed an unlit torch was better than nothing at all.

A light shone ahead of her, and slowly her muscles began to relax. She extinguished her lantern and stepped off of the dirt road, and onto the stone path.

No matter how many nights she snuck out her, the sight took her breath away.

The Shrine of the Water Lion loomed before her, it’s gray stone exterior illuminated by the torches that never seemed to go out. Ancient carvings decorated the pillars and outside walls, all in a language long forgotten by the Terran people. Gazing into the moat surrounding the main dome, you could see the ripples of fish darting beneath the crystal-clear water. It was a calming place, but the aura that emanated from it was one that told of history unknown and of unspoken ancientness.

She stopped before crossing the bridge into the main room, lighting her torch with the fire from the stone torches. On the outside of the shrine, there was a barrier of some sort, designed to be a protection against those not deemed worthy by the Water Lion. Pidge felt it’s energy hum in the air as she slipped through it with ease.

Pidge walked into the main shrine, and lit the large fire pit in the middle of the room. The light bounced off of the walls and revealed the ancient language on them, and on the floor. She crossed her legs and sat down, feeling the cold stone beneath her as she emptied out her bag. The papers and various books lay scattered in front of her and she let out a sigh, celebrating another night of safe travel. Her eyes fell on the large statue of a lion, sitting behind a bright blue barrier that even Pidge couldn’t pass through. She tied her long cinnamon hair into a low ponytail behind her and set her glasses squarely on her face.

“Hey, Azu,” she whispered, her voice coming out hoarser than she expected. “I won’t be here late tonight, so you won’t have to put up with me for too long.”

Pidge’s eyes fixated back onto her notes in front of her, wondering if the room had just gotten a bit warmer, or if it was just her imagination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pidge woke to the familiar pounding on her door. “Pidge! It’s time to get up; if you’re late again you’ll be making your own breakfast!” her father half-shouted through the thin wooden door. She mumbled a couple words of protest before pushing herself up. Her bangs were plastered to her face, and she was sure her wavy hair was frizzy enough to compare to a lion’s mane. A weary hand wiped the blurriness from her view as she looked through the small window. The sun was peeking up onto the plateau now, so it was probably around six in the morning by now.

She sighed wearily, throwing herself a small pity party as she resigned herself to her fate once again. Despite the fact that her nightly expenditures were a regular occurrence – and so were her early mornings after – Pidge had learned that she’d probably always feel like jumping out of the window when she woke up.

The small girl hobbled down the hall and out the backdoor, carrying with her two buckets. The cold morning wind felt like it was cutting through her as she made her way down to the stream behind the Gunderson household. “Ah! Cold, cold, cold!” she gasped as the water splashed her hands. Pidge bit her lip as she willed herself to fill the other empty bucket. Back to the house it was, just like every other morning.

Pidge grunted as she swung the door open with her foot – the sorry thing didn’t even latch properly any more – and made her way to the wash room. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of garlic being used in whatever her mother was cooking that morning.

Flinging open the shutters, light filled the small room and Pidge was granted the privilege of not stumbling around in the dark. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn’t help but groan. Her hair was all matted on the top of her head. How does that even _happen_? She grasped the long-abused comb in her hand. “It’s not that bad, Pidge. It’s just hair- ow!” she winced when she hit a tangle. “Okay never mind; this is going to take my entire life to fix.” A mental note was made to start tying up her hair in something before sleeping.

The metal teeth of the comb glided through the last strands of her hair and she smiled at reflection. Pidge fixed her locks in her usual style, a low bun, and washed the sleep off of her face. _Much better_ , she thought. In a flurry of the usual morning madness, she downed breakfast, changed her clothes, and pulled on her boots. She tied off the laces and brushed invisible dirt off of her brown tunic. “Alright, Mom, I’m off!” she called, her voice reverberating through the cottage.

“Not without this you aren’t!” she replied. A petite woman with the slightest hints of gray taking root in her hazelnut hair marched her way to the door. In her hands was a triangular hat, much like Pidge’s father’s. Pidge groaned, her distaste for it showing plainly on her face.

“But-”

“No buts, young lady! I won’t be having two people in my house with their faces turned into tomatoes,” she chided, fastening the cord under her daughter’s chin. “You’re taking Rover and the sheep out to the plains today, right? That’s what Maurice told me. Anyhow, the sun’s going to be strong today so try and stay in the shade. And don’t forget to take your canteen with you in case you get-”

 Pidge couldn’t stop her laugh before it came out. The older woman’s face morphed into one of irritation for a brief moment, before changing to a small smile. “Mom, you don’t have to worry so much. We’re just going to Eiller Plains; I won’t be _that_ far away.”

“I know, but I just can’t help but worry.” A kiss was placed on Pidge’s forehead. “Have a good day, sweetie.”

The village was well awake by then; people were milling about in the streets and the tiny general store’s door was open. The owner’s son was sweeping out in front of the store, although his efforts weren’t exactly producing any form of results. In fact, by the cloud of dust hovering around him, he was probably just making things worse. Thankfully, Pidge would be gone before Eiller was covered in a dust cloud. She brought her fingers to her mouth and whistled sharply, twirling her shepherd’s staff in her other hand.

A friendly bark started heading towards her. Rover, her canine friend, ran straight at her and launched himself into her arms. Which of course knocked her flat on her back, since he was about as large as a wolf. “Hey buddy!” Pidge greeted him through his slobbery kisses. “We’ve got some work to do today. You ready?” As if he understood her, he barked again in reply. She pulled herself back to her feet and straighten her stupid hat. _Oh well; if it makes mom happy…_

The walk over to the open plains was a pleasant one. The early autumn wind swept across the open field, the trees rustling in a pleasant harmony with the birds. Pidge’s mind was free of worries, aside from making sure the sheep didn’t waltz off the plateau. It was a long drop – about one thousand feet or so – and despite how lucky the stupid things had proven themselves to be, even they wouldn’t survive that. Pidge took her seat underneath a tree, trusting Rover to let her know if they were doing anything stupid. Her mind was quickly occupied with translating the notes in her journal.

Altean – she’s sure that’s what the language was. The shrine was covered with them, and during her many trips there, she found many other objects covered in the same character-structured language. Pidge had devoted her past few years of life to learning it, and so far, had only decent luck doing so. She sighed and sat the leather-bound book on her face. It was hard learning a mostly dead language, and on top of that, she would never have a chance of finding a teacher. Not after Altea had been destroyed 500 years ago.

So here she was, on the last territory of Northern Terra not ruled by the Galra empire, with what she was sure was the key to fighting back against the tyrannical empire locked behind a language she could only vaguely understand. The frustration coursed through her small body and Pidge slammed the book shut. Heat built behind her eyes, but she quickly wiped away any tear that dared to appear. “Ah, this is so dumb,” she exhaled, letting her head it the cool bark behind her in defeat. She indulged herself in the peaceful sounds of Pollux before trying again.

The wind rustling through the tree, the few birds there were chirping a song, the soft bleating of the sheep as they grazed, the sound of the waterfall going over the edge of the cliff, the sound of hoof beats-

_Wait._

Pidge’s eyes flew open and her hand darted for her staff. She looked around before going to hide in the patch of trees next to the path back to Eiller. _There was no way_ , she told herself. _I must have imagined it. Horses haven’t been on the Pollux Highlands for years. Yeah, it was just her imagination going crazy._ She took in a deep breath.

_Clip-clop._

A sharp intake of breath escaped her. No- what- how-? The path down the highlands had been destroyed decades ago! There’s no way a horse could get up the narrow path the traders used, it just wasn’t possible. So that meant…

Someone had cleared the path. And that someone was probably the Galra, finally making their move against the last piece of Northern Terra they hadn’t been able to capture for the past ten years. Pidge’s heart beat against her ribcage. What was she supposed to do? She could try to slip back to Eiller, but a horse would easily outrun her. Her knuckles turned white as she firmly grasped her staff. No, there was only one option.

Her head peaked around the tree, stealing a glance at the intruder on their horse. Whoever was riding the bay was hooded, making it hard for Pidge to tell who- no, rather _what_ they were. It didn’t matter who they were; if they were Galra, she had to stop them right then.

She counted her breaths, waiting for her chance to strike.

_3, 2, 1…_

With a yell, she flew out of her hiding place, striking the rider firmly in the head with her staff. Pidge watched in shock as they slid out of the saddle, falling in an unconscious heap on the ground. The horse just looked at her in confusion. She looked back at it with a mirrored expression. She made her way to the other side where the intruder laid on their back. Using the hook, she pulled the hood away from their face from a safe distance.

Well, he definitely wasn’t Galra, that much was sure. Pidge approached him and observed his face. He had darker complexion, with wavy brown hair that threatened to fall in his eyes. In fact, he looked like a normal Terran. Minus his ears; those were definitely a little weird.

Her heart slowed it’s frantic beating and she let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Then, what about the path way? Pidge sprinted down the trail, scared of what she might find. She prayed to every god that the hole the boy had gone through wasn’t too large. Leather boots dug into the dirt as she skidded to a halt. “What the hell?” she asked, her voice breathy and quavering slightly.

The path was untouched, with no sign of entry or exit in sight.


	2. Between a Long Piece of Wood and a Hard Place

In the time she’d lived with the Gunderson’s, Pidge was sure she’d done many things to stress out her mother. However, when she came home with a horse and unconscious boy, she was sure the older woman almost had a heart attack.

“What on earth-?” she muttered as her daughter brushed past her.

“That’s what I’d like to know!” Pidge replied, voice clearly quavering, although she was trying her best to hide it. “But right now, I need to find something to wake our visitor up so I can get some answers.”

“Why-” her mother spat out between grunts as she tried to carry their unexpected guest inside, “is he unconscious?”

“I panicked!” Pidge exclaimed, jumping down from where she was rummaging through the cabinets. “Anyways I have no clue what I’m looking for; why don’t you take care of that and I’ll… wait what was I even thinking of doing after I got him here?”

The hazel haired woman, ever the one on top of things, pinned up her shoulder length hair and shooed Pidge out of her way. “We have a floor mat in our bedroom; set him up on that. Also go get some fresh water and a rag for that bump you made. I’d prefer ice but finding that this time of year is like finding a horse in the highlands.” Gray eyes drifted to the door where the bay horse was sticking its head through the door frame with a confused expression. Pidge wondered if bewilderment was its default expression. “Actually, never mind. Bad analogy,” she mumbled.

Pidge kicked off her boots and burst into her parents’ room, almost tearing the door off of it’s hinges. To be fair, most of the doors were barely holding onto the hinges in the first place, but nonetheless. By the time she came back with a poor excuse for a headrest and a mat, and another load of stream water, her mother was already taking the teen’s back pack and other gear off.

She fixed her bun and knelt down beside him. Amber and gray eyes stared at each other for a few moments before Pidge finally broke the silence.

“So… uh… what now?”

"Well I’m going to find your father and bring him back to help sort out this mess,” she sighed, pushing herself to her feet. “You stay here with him in case he decides to wake up before I get back.”

Pidge was about to bring up that leaving her alone with a strange man who should not – by any normal means – be there right then was a very bad idea, when she felt her staff press into her hands.

“If he does anything funny, just work your magic,” she joked before making her way to the door. After the door shut behind her, Pidge swore she heard her mutter to the horse something about the poor animal bringing nothing but trouble.

Pidge sighed and propped herself up against one of the poles holding up the loft above her, her eyes not daring to leave the boy’s sleeping frame. Her hands closed around her staff, stiffening and relaxing. She couldn’t make sense of her thoughts; her brain was in a weird state of going too fast, but not processing anything at all. She was sure she felt a headache coming on.

With an exhale, she put the wooden staff to the side, trying to will herself to relax _. It’s fine, Pidge_ , she hopeless told herself in a vain attempt to not go into a state of panic again. _It’s just a suspicious man who shouldn’t realistically be here – and you don’t even know why he’s here either – lying unconscious on the floor of your house because of a blow to the head you gave him. A normal day really._ She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that last comment. Her eyes drifted back to the mat where he was; even if he did mean to cause harm to the Pollux settlers, there wasn’t any form of law enforcement here. The next best thing was Pidge’s father, Maurice Gunderson, who had been made an unspoken leader of Eiller years ago.

Her hand brushed against something cold. It spooked Pidge, making her jump a bit, and then making her feel stupid afterward. She didn’t need to be _that_ jumpy. She let her eyes leave her – well, she hated to say _prisoner_ but that was the closest thing he was to, in all honesty – to see what she’d accidentally stumbled upon.

Sitting next to her was a pile of equipment she assumed belonged to the brown-haired boy across from her. After debating it for about a minute, she convinced herself it would be okay if she went through it, considering how he was technically a trespasser. Besides, if she came across anything personal, she just wouldn’t go through that. It seemed reasonable to Pidge as she started to pick apart the pile. It was nothing extraordinary at first, just normal travelling gear it seemed. She picked up the short cloak he’d been wearing early, running the dull greenish material through her fingers. His clothes definitely weren’t like any Northern Terran’s she’d seen.

She opened the leather pack that had hung around his belt. However, she found that it held a lot more than what Pidge thought it could hold. In fact, she was sure it shouldn’t have been possible to cram in there as much as he had. None of the contents were too interesting – extra clothes, a few blankets, matches, extra bowstring and such – aside from a back of stationary and a small, leather bound journal. She elected to not go through those.

His weapons were a well-worn bow and a sword, which in contrast to the bow, seemed in rather good shape. She looked over them, but they seemed completely normal.

Pidge rested her head against the post again. What if he was just a normal traveler who had miraculously wandered into one of the most secluded areas on the Cosmas mainland? Granted that seemed nigh impossible, but the more she looked at him and his belongings, the more it seemed to be that way. _Great job, Pidge. You might have just concussed a perfectly innocent person. What would Dad say?_ She imagined her father’s reaction and shuddered.

She pushed pile over to the side, sighing. Pidge had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, but it probably hadn’t been too long. Surely, he’d wake up soon so she could question him. And apologize. Well the apology would depend on who he was.

Something she hadn’t seen poked out from underneath the pile. She gripped the thin chain-like metal, pulling out whatever it was. It was a pendant made out a strange stone. It had a strange feel to it, aside from her having absolutely no clue what it was made out of, but that wasn’t what bothered her. Inscribed into the body of the blue lion pendant was a language she knew all too well. Pidge had stared at it and studied into the early hours of the morning and late hours of the evening.

Altean.

Pidge couldn’t believe her eyes. She ran her fingers over the inscriptions, telling her that it was indeed Altean. She recognized the flow of the characters, the texture of the stone. It was almost like being at the shrine.

Slowly, she looked back over at the mystery man who was still asleep. “Who… are you?”

As if on cue, his eyes flew open and Pidge leapt to her feet, staff in hand. She shoved the pendant into her pocket, now facing a larger issue. The boy winced as he pushed himself into a sitting position, clearly dazed as he took in his surroundings, and slowly his gaze settled on the unimposing, barely even five feet tall figure in front of him.

“Who-?”

“Who are you? How did you get here?” Pidge interrupted, her grip around her staff tightening.

His blue eyes widened in what she assumed to be fear as she thrust the wooden hook at him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Jeez, what’s with the hostility?!” he questioned, his voice squeaking a bit. She noted he had an accent of some kind.

“Answer the questions and I won’t have to be!” she retorted, refusing to move the staff from his face.

“Lance! Lance McClain. I, uh…” Lance’s voice trailed off as he clearly was confused by something, “I don’t exactly remember how I got here? I mean I was on a horse I think-!” he cut himself off. “Wait, where’s my horse?”

Pidge was about to answer when the Perpetually Bewildered Horse whinnied outside. She saw his face relax and he turned his attention back to her. With a sigh, she lowered the staff and looked at him again. “So, uh, where exactly am I?” he asked.

She leaned her back against the post, still doing her best to keep her guard up. “Pollux Highlands,” was her quip of an answer.

Lance blinked a few times. “Pollux? Wow, okay. I’m in Northern Terra.” he mumbled to himself.

 _What’s left of it, anyways,_ she couldn’t help but add on mentally. Pidge’s bitterness at the last comment he made was apparently not well hidden.

“Listen, lady-”

Pidge’s response was well rehearsed. She’d said it many times over the course of her life, so she replied almost immediately. “I’m not a girl. I’m a boy.” It still left a strange taste in her mouth whenever she said it. She wondered if that would ever go away.

Of all the things she’d said so far, that one seemed to shock him the most. Of course, Pidge was used to it at this point. Her voice was fairly deep, and she appeared rather androgynous, but she guessed her petite figure betrayed her real identity anyways.

Finally, Lance recollected himself. “Really? Uh, sorry about that.”

Pidge did her rehearsed eyeroll and rehearsed sigh, followed swiftly by her rehearsed line, “It’s fine, it happens a lot. But really, did you think there are actually any teenaged girls left in Northern Terra, or are you just dense?”

“Wait, what?” Now that was a response she’d never heard, or expected. She glanced over at him to see if he was joking, but if he was, his face didn’t betray any sign of it.

“Are you serious? You don’t know? Even most Southern Terran’s know.” Pidge knew she looked confused. She was confused. When he replied negatively, she couldn’t believe it. It was the reason almost no one ventured into Upper Terra anymore.

“Well,” she began, unsure of how to go about telling it, “after the royal family vanished, the Galra moved into Terra almost immediately. In less than a week, the upper half was conquered and countless villages, towns, and cities burned to the ground. If that wasn’t enough, the Princess – I can’t remember her name – was the only one who ended up completely vanishing, so any girls around her age or younger were rounded up by the Galra and never seen again.” She exhaled, knowing her story was paraphrased and rushed. She wasn’t used to telling it though, in her defense.

There were parts she left out; important parts, to be honest. How the young girls who managed to avoid the first gathering by the Galra had to live out the rest of their lives as boys. Or how Eiller was the last of the sanctuaries for these girls who were in grave danger back in the rest of Northern Terra -rather, the Galra Empire was the proper name for it now. Pidge didn’t dare mention about the six-year-old girl who wandered into Pollux on a stormy night after her village had been destroyed, or how she continued to live in Eiller in permanent disguise.

No; no one ever needed to know about that.

Pidge was sure Lance was about to respond when the door burst open – she was starting to think that just getting rid of door would be more efficient at this point – and she jumped back in sync with him. Her father stormed into the house, his large figure dwarfing his wife.

She almost laughed at the expression on poor Lance’s face. Pidge could see his life flash before his eyes as her father skidded to a halt in front of him.

This was bound to be entertaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this aside from my own laziness and anxiety over my lackluster writing. This has been sitting in my drafts for two months and I've been putting off posting it because of my doubts about my skills before I remembered that fanfiction is for fun and it doesn't have to be perfect.  
> So after a way too long hiatus and finally getting that mental block out of the way, I'm glad to say that more frequents updates will be coming. I can't promise they'll be weekly because of school, but it definitely won't be a three month wait again.  
> Also a huuuuge thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! I'm really bad at replying to comments but I'll try to start doing from now on.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	3. Catalyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is extremely friendly. Maybe overly so. Pidge didn’t mind until she realized that she had a semi-permanent shadow.

Pidge was starting to wonder when dodging Lance became part of her daily routine. 

In the past two weeks, Eiller had practically adopted Lance as an honorary citizen. Her parents were even prone to doting on the strange South Terran and his stupid puns. Her _father_ had taken a shine to him. Pidge had no reasonable hypothesis to how that had happened. 

It’s not that Lance was a bad guy. No, he was far from it. He was a mama’s boy, through and through. He rambled constantly about his family on the Ruda peninsula; the amount of times he had bragged about his nieces and newphews was- well, Pidge had lost count. He was good natured, honest, and a bit of an airhead, but not dim witted. He seemed like a perfectly normal guy.

And that’s what was bothering her. 

A perfectly normal guy shouldn’t be wandering up an un-wanderable road with a priceless artifact from a collapsed civilization just sitting in his backpack next to some dry cheese. 

Whenever Pidge tried to ask questions about how he got there, or what he was there for, he immediately changed the subject. She remembered what he had said when she asked why he was still hanging around if Pollux wasn’t his destination. 

_“I misplaced something, and I can’t leave until I find it.”_

Now anyone could put together that he was obviously talking about the lion pendant. But Pidge didn’t plan on returning it until she figured out exactly what the _hell_ it actually was. Was that a cruel thing to do? Maybe, but if her family’s lives were on the line, she’d do any number of questionable things to keep them safe. 

So it was absolutely frustrating that Pidge could never find a moment to look at it seriously without running into the lanky man she was trying so actively to avoid. 

“Hey! Mister Pidge Gunderson! Just the guy I was looking for.”

She groaned. Was there a tree nearby she could meld into? Pidge side-eyed Rover. “Could you do me a favor and actually be a guard dog for a sec?”

Rover responded by yawning, and then scratching his ear. 

“Traitor. I should have trained the sheep instead.”

Lance unceremoniously plopped down next to her. “You’re not an easy person to find, Mister Gunderson.”

”I’d rather you throw me off of this cliff than have you call me Mister Gunderson ever again.”

”... Mister Pidge?”

”You somehow came up with something worse than Mister Gunderson. Color me impressed,” she replied in a deadpan tone. “But you wanted something?”

”Actually, I wanted to ask you what this is?” Lance held up a small, leather-bound journal.

Pidge inhaled sharply.

“I mean it’s got a bunch of gibberish in here that I can’t understand, but I think it’s Altean,” he paused, looking her in the eyes. “Am I right?”

And uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Pidge was completely shocked. He knew what Altean was? How did he even know it was hers to begin with? She stiffened. 

Lance kept staring a hole through her, until he sighed and tossed the journal back to her. She fumbled to catch it before wrapping it close to her chest. “Listen, Pidge, I know you don’t like me, and you don’t have to tell me anything-“

”-I don’t dislike you.”

He raised his eyebrows in doubt. 

“I mean, I just...”

”You don’t trust me,” he finished. Lance took her silence as confirmation. “That’s fine, I don’t really expect you to. But if you could trust me on one thing, could you just trust me on this?”

Pidge looked at him warily. 

“I’m not going to hurt anyone. I swear it.”

Lance stood up and brushed himself off. “Well, I’ve said my piece,” he murmured as he turned to head back towards the village.

“Lance,” she called. He turned back to look at her. “Uh, thanks,” she fumbled, “for, uh... giving this back.”

Her heart nearly stopped as his face lit up with a smile.

~~~ 

“Hey, Pidge.”

”Oh, hey Lance,” she responded, not looking up from her spot on the ground.

”Why are you, uhhhh,” he paused, obviously trying to make the least provoking word choice, “sitting in the middle of the road?”

”Because I like it here.”

Lance nodded slowly, deciding to not comment further on it. Pidge chuckled lightly. 

“It’s warm here because there aren’t any trees blocking out the sunlight, and it’s not as busy as it is in town, but I’m not far enough away to warrant bringing a weapon or guard dog with me.”

Lance gave her a look. 

“What?” She demanded.

”Nothing. I think that’s the most you’ve spoken to me since you interrogated me two weeks ago.”

Pidge flushed red. She had felt terrible about the way she’d been treating him. Was it warranted? Maybe for a little bit, but she had gone too far with her suspicions. It wasn’t even being suspicious anymore; she’d stepped right over the line and had been straight up mean to him. She straightened her glasses before looking up at him. 

He wasn’t annoyed with her. His expression seemed more amused than anything else. “Hey, don’t clam up on me! The point of this was trying to get you to talk to me, not the other way around!” he exclaimed in fake exasperation.

Gods, how could she have been such a prat to this man?

That’s it. She was coming clean. 

Pidge brought herself to her feet. “Lance, I have an apology to make.”

”Ah, you don’t-“

”Yes. Yes I do.” She pulled the pendant out of her pocket and he fell silent. “I could go into a list of excuses as to why I took it, but I should have given back to you sooner, whether I trusted you or not. I’ve been unintentionally stalling your mission for too long, all because I’ve been paranoid. I’m so sorry, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” Pidge stared at the ground, struggling to find the words. “It threw me off guard that it was in Altean because I haven’t seen it used anywhere outside of shrine, but-“

”A shrine?!”

Pidge’s head shot up at his interruption. Lance’s hand was shaking visibly. 

“Y-yeah, there’s a shrine about 2 hours away from here-?”

”Can you take me there? I forgive you for everything Pidge, but can you please take me there?” He nearly shouted. Pidge took a step back. What the hell was he going on about? Something in her gut told her that something was going to happen if she took him there. But..

”Of course. I owe you that much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for abandoning this fic because I actually really like it??? I’m sorry bby it won’t happen again take me back.


End file.
